Adam's Adolescence
by Adamantwrites
Summary: There are some things a boy needs to know and understand before he can be considered a man. Adult language and situations.


All recognizable settings and characters are the property of their respective owners. All original plots and characters are the property of the author. No copyright infringement is intended.

 **Adam's Adolescence**

"What were you thinking?" Adam stood in the middle of the great room, his father chastising him and a ten year old Hoss and a four year old Joe trying to make themselves as small as possible on the settee. Marie was sitting in the blue chair, obvious distress on her face. Everyone felt uncomfortable when Ben and Adam went at it.

I'm too old for this, Adam thought. Just shut up, old man. Just go fuck your wife and shut up.

"I'll tell you what you were thinking-you weren't thinking at all!" Ben angrily paced, his hands on his hips.

Just hit me and get it over with, Adam thought. Just let me get away from you and the rest of this family. College in a year and then, and then I won't have to be preached at by you anymore, thank God Almighty.

Ben stopped in front of his oldest son and poked his forefinger into Adam's chest while he yelled, and each time he poked, the anger rose in Adam. He glared at his father. "I tell you what you're going to do. You're going to ride with Cooper's men and round up all the cattle that you stampeded and then, you're going to work for him-and around here as well-until that fence is fixed and paid off. Do you understand?"

"But it wasn't just me, Pa! The Bonner…"

"Don't raise your voice to me!" Ben yelled. "And I don't care about the Bonner boys-their mother can deal with them. If they had a father they wouldn't be the hooligans they are." Ben stopped and Adam felt a sense of relief that his father had stopped talking-and then Ben started up again. "And if I find that you've been running around with them again, why I…I swear I'll take a bullwhip to you. Hear me?"

"Yes," Adam spat out, "I hear you. You're shouting loud enough; how could I help but hear you. I bet all the hands in the bunkhouse can hear you too!"

Ben, without thinking, gave the back of his hand to Adam so hard that Adam staggered backward a step. Adam put his hand to the stinging spot on his cheek and more than anything else, he wanted to slap his father back-but he couldn't. His resolve failed him. So instead he asked in a sarcastic tone, "Do you want to hit me again or can I go now?"

Marie had jumped to her feet and gone over to her husband, grabbing onto his arm; she had never seen him this angry. Adam had been impossible lately, Marie knew that, but Adam was older now and he had more freedom and with that came more chances to do something wrong and lately, all Ben and Adam did was butt heads. "Ben, don't be so rough on him."

Adam viciously turned on Marie. "I don't need or want you to defend me. You don't have anything to do with me-understand?" He hated her. She pranced around in her flimsy wraps in the mornings and seemed to enjoy her sexuality, enjoyed arousing him, making him hard. Many a night he had heard noises from their room, his father and Marie having sex, their grunts and moans and Adam would be filled with rage. He resented Marie because she slept with his father, because she tried to be his mother, something Adam would never let her be, and she had given birth to that puling, annoying, Joseph who was everyone's favorite and who followed Adam around with adoration. And sometimes, she would attempt to hug Adam and his heart would race and he would pull away, too afraid that she would feel his hardness against her. And he wanted nothing to do with her although he did have a handkerchief he had stolen from her drawer and some nights, he would smell it, the scent of lemon verbena, and then he would masturbate, imagining that she had come to him in the middle of the night and climbed on top of him. And because he was ashamed of these fantasies, Adam had even more reason to avoid Marie and to refuse to meet her eye and more reason to answer her questions in monosyllables.

Adam knew that he was too old to be jealous of Joseph but despite his intellectual knowledge of the situation, emotionally, he was distraught. Joe had everything that he had never had; a father who spent hours with him, taking him riding by letting Joe sit in front of him and guide the horse, two older brothers to look after him and his mother. That was what Adam resented the most; Joe had a mother who adored him and spoiled him and cooed endearments to him in French. And so his heart raged with jealousy and envy. He also raged at God for being so unfair to him.

Adam lay on his bed, still fuming. One, if Mr. Cooper hadn't come over here screaming and yelling about his precious cattle this evening, nothing would have happened. And Mr. Cooper really didn't have proof that Adam was involved but when asked, Adam couldn't lie and confessed. And then he was glad that he hadn't lied because Mr. Cooper told them that the Bonner brothers, in the hopes of diminishing their own punishment, had thrown Adam to the wolves-but they hadn't pointed the finger at Carl. And Adam hadn't either. And since Adam had taken responsibility for what he had done, Adam felt righteously angry. His father was treating him unfairly and the punishment was extreme in Adam's opinion. After all, he was almost 17-and most of all, he shouldn't have been struck. When he thought of it, he became angry again and felt his face get hot. There was a knock on his door and he heard Hoss on the other side.

"Adam, Pa says to come down to dinner."

"I'm not hungry," Adam answered. There was silence, then another knock.

"What do you want now?" Adam called out.

Hoss peeked in around the door. "Please come down to dinner, Adam. Everyone's upset. Joe cried after you left and Momma is all upset with Pa, and Adam, I think even Pa is sad that he hit you."

Adam lay on the bed, still staring at the ceiling. "I'm not hungry, I told you." And Hoss turned and left, closing the door quietly.

Adam waited; he expected his father to come up next and he wasn't disappointed. Soon, there was a warning knock on his door and then his father opened it and came in.

"Adam, why don't you come down to dinner? You must be hungry."

"No, thank you." Adam stared upward. Then he felt the bed sink and realized his father had sat down on his bed.

"Look, Adam, I want to apologize, especially for striking you. I don't take any pride in losing my temper. If you were younger, I would have taken you to the woodshed but I would have waited until I wasn't angry anymore but this…Adam, I don't know what's been bothering you lately but…I also don't know what to do with you. You're practically a man but you're surly and unpleasant and then you're so rude to Marie. You don't know how you hurt her with the cruel things you say. I don't know how to treat you anymore and I feel that I've lost all control over you-and over myself." Ben paused. Adam knew what his father meant, that he had lost control when he struck Adam and now Adam was glad that his father had struck him-it gave Adam leverage. His father would be extra careful now.

"I tried to raise you the best I could, tried to give you love and understanding but I feel I've failed. I'm sorry, son-very sorry." Ben waited but Adam still lay unmoving, his mouth tight, his jaw clenched, still staring at the ceiling, and Ben was at a loss as to how to reach him. Time, that was what they both needed-time.

Ben stood up. "Well. We'll keep a warm plate for you in the kitchen stove in case you get hungry later." Ben looked down at his son who was too old for him to kiss and not mature enough yet to accept his father's heart-felt apology, But then Adam could be hard; "Adamantine." Once Ben had joked with Roy when Ben was discussing his oldest son and how difficult and hard-headed he could be and said that his name should be short for adamantine-unyielding but then, brilliant as a diamond. And Roy had said that it was good that Adam knew his own mind and that he had a great deal of respect for Adam. He just needed to get a little older; being Adam's age was so difficult.

Ben left and closed the door and then Adam sat up. The hell with them-all of them. Adam pulled open his wardrobe and on the top shelf was an old hat that Adam hadn't the heart to throw away. He pulled it out and put it on and grabbed one of the two leather vests folded beside where it had been and slipped it on-it was going to be chilly. Then he locked his door, put the key on his desk, opened the drawer and pulled out some paper money that he had earned doing chores for Mrs. Shaughnessy. He folded the bills once, stuck it in his pocket, and then crawled out the window, side-stepped down the roof and then dropped down, landing in a crouch. He went to the barn and quickly saddled his horse and walked him out. "Shhhh, boy," Adam whispered to his horse. "I'll give you a scoop of oats when we get back." Adam walked his horse away from the house, then mounted and took off for Carl Reagan's house.

The light was on in Carl's room. Adam tossed pebbles at the window until Carl opened the casement.

"Hey, Adam. What's goin' on?"

"Want to go into town?" Adam needed to go somewhere, do something and since he couldn't go with the Bonner boys, he'd take Carl.

"I got a better idea," Carl said. "I'm coming down-wait." Carl closed the window and Adam stood in the darkness. Soon, Carl was out the front door and Adam led his horse to the front. "I thought you'd be locked in your room for days after what happened." Carl said, half laughing.

"You're just lucky I didn't name you," Adam said, watching Carl saddle his horse.

"It wouldn't have mattered; I'd say you were lying and my old man would believe me. You know he thinks I can do no wrong." Carl checked the cinch and then led his horse out of the barn.

Adam knew Carl was right; his father thought his son was a good boy, couldn't do anything wrong and would believe no ill of him. And that was because Carl was a good son. He did love his father and took care of him. But Adam also knew about the sadistic, cruel streak in Carl and Adam had to admit sometimes that he really didn't trust Carl. But Adam knew that Carl was a little afraid of him as well, kept a wide berth around him and avoided playing his mean tricks on Adam; he needed Adam as a friend. The only thing that came between them was girls.

Adam and Carl used to vie for certain girls. One of them would pick out a girl and then both boys would try to win her over. The girl's feelings never really played into the competition, just which of the two of them, Carl or Adam, was the victor.

But there had been Callie and she had been a problem to them because Callie was willing to see both Adam and Carl and then they both found out, Adam first, that Callie was loose with her favors. Adam had thought that she loved him because she spread her legs for him and it was his first time and in the midst of his ecstasy, he had cried that he loved her. And afterwards, as he held her and made plans for when they would marry, she had stood up, straightened her clothing, smoothed her skirts, and told him that she had to go home. Adam had wanted to hold her longer, to talk about their future but she said, very calmly, that she had to go in now or her father would come looking for her. She had given Adam a perfunctory kiss, asked him if she had hay on her anywhere, and then she left him in the barn and went into her house. And, as if that wasn't bad enough, the day after the next one, Carl bragged to Adam about how he sacked Callie and what a sweet cunt she had and Adam never said a word about his time with Callie. But Adam was destroyed; he finally realized that to others, sex didn't equal love. It took him a while but he finally adopted the same attitude and although he had never before been able to understand how a man could go to a brothel and feel no affection for the woman who took his seed inside herself, he could now. And after his first taste, Adam realized that he would do almost anything to be able to rut with another woman, to just give himself over to the complete satisfaction of his animalistic lust.

"Well, what's your better idea?" Adam asked Carl. Actually, Adam, with the mood he was in, would have agreed to anything.

"There's this whore house about two miles out on the road to Carson City. I heard that there's a whore there, Babette, who'll do just about anything for anyone-don't matter who or what as long as you pay. How much money you got?"

Adam reached into his pocket and looked. "About four dollars."

"Well, I have two and some coin so that oughta be enough." Carl smiled. "We're gonna have a good time tonight, Adam. A real good time."

But although Adam grinned, he didn't feel it inside. He shouldn't have snuck out of the house but he hadn't been told not to go anywhere. He could use that argument with his father if he was found out. Adam tried to clean his conscience but he couldn't.

They rode up to a large two-story house standing alone that even in the dark, looked shabby and partially dilapidated. Piano music jangled from inside and when Carl and Adam walked in, not a single head turned to look. The two boys looked at one another and then walked over to the bar and asked for whiskey. They weren't questioned, just had two glasses put in front of them and whiskey added and Carl slapped some coins on the counter.

Adam watched Carl throw the whiskey down his throat and ask for another, so Adam followed suit but he felt the burning down his throat and it practically took his breath away; he had never had whiskey before.

Carl laughed as Adam coughed. "It'll make you grow a set of balls, Adam! Have another one."

Adam shook his head no and pushed the glass away from him. He could feel his empty stomach rebel. "I don't need two sets of 'em," Adam joked. When the bartender, an ugly man who stank like horse manure, came over, Carl asked him about Babette.

"Upstairs. Third door on the right but it's a little early yet. Sure you wouldn't rather have more drinks?" The bartender obviously had no interest in the two boys; he barely had interest in serving drinks but he did have an interest in making money on selling overpriced whiskey. Carl said no, and swallowed his second glass, wincing and shaking his head. "Whew!" Carl said. "Tastes like kerosene." Adam laughed but he was nervous. He wished that he'd never come but he was here now and he couldn't back down. "Let's go, Adam. Let's get laid."

The two boys stepped their way through the sawdust lined floor that had sputum and spilled drinks as well as tobacco splats on it. In the morning, it would all be swept outside and new sawdust put down. There was a saw mill about three miles away and Adam conjectured that the sawdust came from there. They walked up the stairs and when they came to the third door on the right, it was half-open. Carl stuck his head in.

"Are you Babette?"

Adam stood back and heard a woman's voice say that she was. Then Carl asked if they could come in and the woman questioned his use of "they." Carl said that he and a friend came to get laid; he had heard that she would do anything. She laughed and told them to come in and close the door behind them.

Adam followed Carl in and although he hadn't known what to expect, this wasn't it. Babette, despite her exotic-sounding name, was a frowsy, blowzy blonde. Adam felt revulsion.

"Well, two handsome pups come to suck on mama bitch's tits, huh? What're your names?"

"I'm Carl and this here is my friend, Adam."

"Carl and Adam, huh? This your first time, boys?" She lay propped against the pillows, the sheet pulled up to her ponderous breasts.

"First time here," Carl said, "but we've been in the saddle lots of times."

Babette laughed, a long derisive laugh. "Sure you have," she said. "I bet you're a regular range rider."

"Don't laugh at me," Carl said. "No one laughs at me." And it must have been something in Carl's voice that frightened her because her attitude changed and she sat higher and pulled her sheet up higher.

"What do you boys want? You have money?" She looked back and forth at them. Both boys were dark and handsome but the one named Carl, Babette felt that he could be deadly and she wanted to finish with him and get him out.

"We want a good fuck from you. I watch while my friend takes you and he watches while I take you. Okay?"

"Fine. Just make it fast. I got some regulars comin' up in a little bit." She lied; there were no regulars but she wanted to be rid of him quickly. "C'mere, pretty boy. Yeah you," she said motioning at Adam. "How about you goin' first?"

"No," Carl said. "I don't want to slip in his leavins-I go first. That okay with you, Adam? That way, you get to watch how it's done first." Carl laughed at his joke.

Adam felt a touch of nausea and put it down to the whiskey on an empty stomach. "I don't mind your going first." Adam considered stepping outside in the hall; he had lost his desire to watch anyone else have sex, especially Carl and this buxom whore but he knew that he'd never hear the end from Carl if he left.

So Adam stood against the wall and watched Carl pull off his boots and trousers and then pull the sheet down from around Babette. Adam had never seen a woman's breasts before and hers were pendulous and the aureoles were the size of the giant sugar cookies Hop Sing made. She separated her legs and Carl climbed on top of her and positioned himself between her thighs. Carl thrust himself inside her and Adam noticed that there was barely a reaction from Babette. Adam wondered if she even noticed or felt Carl inside her. Carl began his thrusts and then Adam watched as he leaned over Babette and stared sucking on one of her huge nipples. Suddenly, Adam saw Babette's eyes widen and she started yelling and trying to get Carl off of her. He had a hunk of one breast between his teeth and was holding onto it the way a rat terrier does its prey. She bucked and slapped his head and he released her nipple and laughed. Babette called him a nasty bastard and tried to get him off and out of her but Carl was strong and he held onto her and just moved even more until he finally orgasmed; her bucking and squirming and cries of pain and outrage only excited him more.

Adam felt a strong wave of nausea overwhelm him and he turned and vomited in the corner. The cheap whiskey made him sick, seeing Carl on top of Babette made him sick, watching the deed of kind and Carl's sadistic treatment of Babette made him sick. He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand and turned to the door.

"Adam," he heard Carl call out for him, "where the hell you goin'? It's your turn. C'mon-she bucks like an unbroke horse!" And Adam could hear Babette screaming at Carl to get off of her now and out of the place or she'd have him thrown out and his skinny, little dick cut off and shoved up his ass. And Carl's laughter echoed after Adam as he hurried down the steps.

Adam felt the cool air hit him in the face, reviving him, and with trembling fingers, he untied his horses' reins and climbed on. But before he could leave, he leaned over from the saddle and heaved. All he tasted was bile and the residual whisky. And then he spurred his horse and took off for home.

Adam felt such relief once he was home that he almost cried. With rubbery legs, he dismounted and walked his horse into the barn, quickly unsaddling and unbridling it. "I promised you oats and oats it is, especially since I can't rub you down tonight." Adam put a scoop of oats into his horse's feed trough and then left.

He sighed before he pulled himself up to the lowest branch of the tree beside the house. From there, Adam climbed onto the first floor roof and bent over, walked to his bedroom window and climbed in. As soon as he was fully in the room, a lamp came up and Adam saw his father sitting in the corner chair. That was the same chair that his father had pulled to the side of the bed so many times to wait for Adam's fever to break when he was ill or to sit while another type of health crisis passed.

"Pa," Adam said, "how did you get in here?"

"Same way as you did, son. Through the window. Took me back to my youth."

Adam remembered his defense strategy. "You didn't say that I couldn't go out, Pa." .

"That's true. but you knew you weren't supposed to. Now how do I know that?"

Adam thought for a few seconds. "Because I went out the window."

"That's right. A man who's not ashamed of his actions always goes in and out the front. Remember that. Cartwrights don't sneak in or sneak out of anywhere."

Adam sat down on his bed facing his father; he couldn't look his father in the face though. "I'm sorry, Pa," he said quietly. "I'm sorry about everything-Mr. Cooper's cattle, his fence, talking back to you, what I said to Marie, sneaking out-Pa, I'm sorry about everything."

"I am too, son. I'm sorry for everything I've done to make you so frustrated and angry. I realize that you're almost a grown man, ready to go out on your own and here you are, stuck on the Ponderosa. And then there are your two younger brothers who worship you and always want from you; they must drag you down. I'm ashamed to confess that I frightened them tonight, both Hoss and Joseph, by the way I treated you; I have a long way to go before everything's back to normal between me and them. And also with your mo…with Marie. She's still upset with me. But I'm the one most upset with me." Ben leaned forward. "Oh, Adam, if I could take back my striking you, I would. I'd do anything…"

"Pa," Adam said, "you don't owe me an apology; I deserved it and probably worse. I pushed you-for weeks, I've been pushing you. I don't know why, Pa. I'm just so restless and I have these feelings and thoughts that…that I'm ashamed of."

"Oh, is that it?" Ben sat back. "Adam, all men, all people, have feelings we're ashamed of. We feel hate and envy and avarice and lust and anger and sometimes, I'll bet that you don't even know why you're angry."

Adam looked up at his father. "You know what it's like then?"

Ben chuckled. "Yes, I know what it's like. You aren't the first person in the world to feel these upsetting emotions, Adam. You should know that from all your books."

"Yes, but, Pa. I want so hard to be good, to be a good person but I'm not. I…" Adam paused before he went on. " I know what's in my soul and, Pa, it's black. I feel….sometimes, I wish I were little Joe. That's a sin-I know that but I can't stop."

Ben laughed and Adam was puzzled. "I wish **I** were Joseph!" Ben said, laughing. "He has no worries, is spoiled by you and everyone else, is petted and praised and his mother adores him above all things. Who wouldn't want to be him?" Adam relaxed. His father understood. And Adam realized that although he envied Little Joe, he also loved him, loved him with such ferocity that it gripped his heart like a vise. And Hoss as well. Adam would walk through fire for Hoss-would give his own life to save his brother. And Marie, well Adam would just have to deal with that until he left for college.

And his father. Adam looked at the man who sat in the chair, who had loved him and who had taken care of him all those lonely years. And Adam wished he were a small child again so that he could crawl onto his father's lap and have him read Adam a story before bed. Adam could still remember the slight vibrations from his father's voice when he would lay his head against his father's chest as he read. And the tears welled in his eyes and Adam looked down.

"You can punish me anyway you think is best, Pa," Adam said, his voice almost breaking.

Ben could hear the depth of emotion in Adam's voice and he himself was on the edge. If only Adam were as small as Joe, he would grab up his son and clasp him to his heart and stroke his hair and kiss his head as he used to-but that time was in the past and there was no going back. And Ben realized that from that point on, he needed to treat Adam as he would any other man, with respect for his ideas and his opinions.

"All right, Adam. This is your punishment." Ben leaned forward, his elbows on his knees. "Tomorrow, directly after breakfast, you are going to town and with me and I'm going to add your name to our account at the bank."

Adam looked up in surprise.

"Until you leave for school, you are going to be responsible for paying the hands-and you had better not make a mistake with the books or the money is going to come out of your own account, understand?"

"My account?"

"Well, of course. You have to have someplace to put the thirty dollars a month I'm going to pay you for balancing the books for me and paying the hands and drovers."

Adam didn't know what to do, what to say and all he could manage was, "Thirty a month?" His father had been paying him four bits a week for helping maintain the ranch and working with the cattle-this was quite a difference.

"A man's pay for a man's work. Believe me, it's worth far more for me to not have to do it myself."

"Thank you, Pa," Adam said in almost a whisper.

"And while we're in town, we need to buy you a better gun and a new gun belt. Since you'll be handling the payroll, you'll need to carry a gun all the time now. And a scabbard. You've been using that old, scarred-up one of mine." Ben seemed lost in thought, calculating all that Adam would need.

Adam was overwhelmed.

"Well," Ben said, standing up. "It's late and I'm off to bed."

Adam stood up as well. "Goodnight, Pa."

Ben reached over and grabbed Adam's neck and grinning, gave Adam a small shake and Adam smiled; his father still loved him. "Goodnight, Adam."

Ben walked over to the door, stood for a second and then turned to his son, a small smile playing on his lips. "Adam, would you let me out?"

Adam grinned. "Sure, Pa." And Adam, ducking his head in embarrassment, retrieved the key from his desk and unlocked the door, holding it open for his father.

Ben walked out and turned and wagging his finger at Adam, said, "Right after breakfast-no excuses!"

"No excuses, Pa. Not anymore." And Adam closed the door as Ben walked down the hall to his own room. Adam smiled in joy, gratitude and most of all, relief.

~Finis~


End file.
